when
that sad affair to poor Kynaston happened?"

"Yes."

Sir Allan moved his chair a little, as though to escape from the warmth
of the fire, and sat where the heavily shaded lamp left his face in the
shadow.

"Yes, that was a terrible affair," he said in a low tone; "and a very
mysterious one. Nothing has ever been heard of the murderer, I suppose?"

"Nothing."

"And there are no rumors, no suspicions?"

Mr. Thurwell looked uneasily around, as though to satisfy himself that
there were no servants lingering in the room.

"It is scarcely a thing to be talked about," he said slowly; "but there
have been things said."

"About whom?"

"About my tenant at Falcon's Nest--Bernard Maddison, as he turned out to
be."

"Ah!"

Mr. Thurwell looked at his guest wonderingly. He could not quite make up
his mind whether he was profoundly indifferent or equally interested.
His tone sounded a little cold.

"There was a fellow down here in my employ," continued Mr. Thurwell,
lighting a fresh cigar, "who turns out to have been a spy or detective
of some sort. Of course I knew nothing of it at the time--in fact, I've
only just found it out; but it seems he ransacked Falcon's Nest and
discovered some papers which he avowed quite openly would hang Mr.
Maddison. But what's become of him I don't know."

"I suppose he didn't disclose the nature of the papers?" Sir Allan asked
quietly.

"No, he didn't go as far as that. By the bye, you know every one,
Beaumerville. Who is this Bernard Maddison? Of course I know all about
his writing and that; but what family is he of? He is certainly a
gentleman."

Sir Allan threw away his cigarette, and rose.

"I think I have heard once, but I don't remember for the moment. Miss
Helen promised us a little music, didn't she?" he added. "If you are
ready, shall we go and remind her?"

Sir Allan brought the conversation to an end with a shrug of his
shoulders, and during the remainder of his stay Mr. Thurwell noticed
that he carefully avoided any reopening of it. Evidently his guest has
no taste for horrors.

Sir Allan rose late on the following morning, and until lunch-time
begged for the use of the library, where he remained writing letters and
reading up the flora of the neighborhood. Early in the afternoon he
appeared equipped for his botanizing expedition.

"Helen shall go with you and show you the most likely places," Mr.
Thurwell had said at luncheon. But though Sir Allan had bow